Nowhere Else to Go
by weirdgirl42
Summary: Five years after the war, a lost soul reaches out to old friends.
1. Chapter 1

**No Where Else to Go**

_disclaimer- I do not own any of the recognizable characters. Any new characters are all mine._

**Chapter 1**

_BANG BANG BANG!_

Hawkeye awoke at the sound of someone banging on the door to his apartment. Groggily he stumbled out of bed assuring its other occupant that he would handle it. Turning the light on as he crossed the living room he saw that it was almost one in the morning.

Shivering slightly in his plaid pajama bottoms he crossed his arms over his bare chest and called out, "Who is it?"

A familiar, yet wholly unexpected voice answered. "Pierce? It's um…it's Charles. Charles Winchester."

Hawkeye unlocked the bolt and undid the chain on the door. "Charles?" he said as he opened the door to reveal his former bunkmate. "Do you have any idea what time it is? This isn't Korea, we sleep around here and…" Hawkeye trailed off as he actually took in the figure before him.

He was taken aback at what he saw. The man who had been able to look composed and dignified even in war looked haggard and distraught. Hawkeye also noticed that he carried a large suitcase.

"Charles what happened?"

"I got your father's number from the Crabapple Cove switchboard operator, thinking you would be there. Your father told me you had moved to New York."

"So you decided to pay a visit at 1 am? You called my father this late?"

"No I called your father at nine. It took me some time to get here on the train and then a while longer to get up the nerve to knock on the door."

Hawkeye ran a hand over his face. "Charles what could you possibly want to say to me that it couldn't be done in the morning, or over the phone. We haven't seen each other in over five years."

"Pierce this is the last place I want to be right now." Charles faltered slightly. "But I have nowhere else to go."

Hawkeye's face softened a little. He saw the pain and humiliation that covered Charles' face. Letting go of his anger at being woken he stepped aside and allowed the other man to carry his suitcase inside. As he was locking the door a voice came from the bedroom.

"Ben? Who is it? What's going on?"

Charles' eyes grew wide. "Is that…" he stopped because a woman entered the room, tying a familiar red bathrobe around her waist.

"Charles?" she said.

"Margaret?"

Margaret came forward and hugged him. Hawkeye noticed that as soon as she touched him, Charles' shoulders became less tense and he sighed. He hugged her the same way Hawkeye had hugged his father on returning from Korea. His first impulse was to be jealous but he could see that Charles was merely sighing at the contact, not because it was Margaret.

When they finally pulled apart Margaret looked up at Charles' face. "What's wrong Charles? What happened?"

"Margaret wait," Hawkeye said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Charles needs a place to stay for the night. It's late. Let's leave details for tomorrow."

Charles gave Hawkeye a look of gratitude but said nothing.

"I'll make up the couch," Margaret said. With that she walked down the small hallway into the bedroom to get blankets.

"Can I assume then that you and Margaret…" Charles began.

"Yeah," replied Hawkeye. "Since right after we got back. Almost five years."

"I always wondered if there was something to that quite impressive kiss."

Hawkeye smirked a little at the memory. "Anyway," he continued, "she wrote me a letter saying she was in New York and the next thing I know, I'm working in a hospital here and living here."

Margaret returned with blankets and pillows, placing them on the couch. Then she returned to stand beside Hawkeye as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. "The bathroom's the first door on the left," she said to Charles. She turned to Hawkeye, "Did you tell him about…"

"No I didn't yet. Charles there's one other thing…"

"Daddy?"

The three adults turned towards the hallway where a small boy of about three stood holding a teddy bear. His hair was messy from sleep and his eyes only half open.

Charles stood in amazement. The identity of this child's parents could not be in question. His face was made the same as Margaret's while his icy blue eyes and raven hair were all Hawkeye.

Hawkeye moved to pick the child up. "Hey Buddy. Did we wake you up?" The boy nodded and laid his head on his father's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I want you to meet a friend of Mommy's and mine. This is Charles Emerson Winchester the third. Charles, this is our son Blake Jonathon."

Charles smiled slightly, "Whom you no doubt call 'BJ.'"

"I'm BJ," the boy said softly.

"Well it is a pleasure to meet you," said Charles.

"Okay big guy," Hawkeye said, "it's time to get back in bed." With that Hawkeye turned and walked back down the hallway humming softly to his son.

Charles watched them go with rapt amazement. He felt a hand on his arm and turned to face Margaret. "I am sorry Margaret," he said. "I should never have come this late but…"

"Nonsense Charles," Margaret said, cutting him off. "I think we all had an understanding with each other. Day and night didn't matter when there was trouble in Korea. And it shouldn't matter between those of us who lived through it. Get some sleep. We can talk in the morning."

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_tbc if there's any interest_


	2. Chapter 2

_This chapter is a lot of explanation that I had to get through. Sorry there isn't more action. It'll get more exciting._

**Chapter 5**

Charles was awoken by the feeling of someone watching him. He opened his eyes and came face to face with BJ Pierce. The small boy had his thumb in his mouth and was looking at the stranger with curiosity.

"Good morning," Charles said.

"Hi," BJ replied, taking his thumb from his mouth. "Mama said that if you awake you come eat pancakes."

"I see," replied Charles, sitting up and pushing the blanket aside. "Well lead on then."

BJ looked at him, clearly not understanding. Charles hid the smile which threatened to form at the child's confusion. "Let's eat pancakes," he clarified.

BJ grinned, looking more like his father than Charles had seen yet, and ran towards the kitchen. Charles got up and followed him, enticed further by the smell of pancakes and bacon. It was so different than what he'd been accustomed to at his parent's house.

Little BJ was sitting at the kitchen table swinging his legs back and forth. He was wearing footie pajamas and humming softly to himself as he watched his mother make breakfast. There was a feeling of familiarity and calm that Charles had not felt since walking into the mess tent on a calm day in Korea.

Margaret turned and smiled when she saw him standing in the doorway. "Have a seat," she said. "I promise I didn't get this recipe from the 4077 chef." Flipping the last pancake off the griddle she put the plate on the table. Walking around to get the bacon she paused to kiss her son on the top of his head.

Charles observed the scene and felt something pull at his insides. He had never spent a morning at the kitchen table watching his mother cook breakfast. His mother never cooked period and he had never been permitted in the kitchen as a child. This was the sort of life he had always scoffed at and now he couldn't help but feel as though he'd missed out on something important.

"Will Pierce be joining us?" Charles asked as he helped himself to a pancake.

"No he has the early shift today," Margaret said, cutting up BJ's pancake for him. "He'll be home around three. I have to go in around noon."

"You're still working then?"

"Part time. I stayed home with BJ for about a year but I missed being a nurse."

"And what of young master BJ when you leave?"

"He stays with a woman who lives upstairs."

Charles paused as he contemplated his next words. "Margaret if you'd like I can stay with him today. I will be here anyway."

Margaret was taken aback by his offer. It was so unlike the Charles she had known. "Are you sure?" she asked. "You don't have to do that."

"I would not have offered if I was not sure. My sister Honoria has a daughter about BJ's age. I have spent time with my niece in the last few months. I believe I can handle three hours."

Margaret thought for a moment. It was only three hours and BJ would be napping for about half of that. "That would be great," she said at last. "Thank you Charles."

Several hours later when Hawkeye walked through the apartment door he was a little shocked to find his son curled up with Charles on the couch. Charles was reading aloud from a book and as he listened, Hawkeye realized he was reading _Last of the Mohicans_.

"Hey," Hawkeye said, making his presence known.

"Daddy!" BJ cried as he leapt from the couch and ran to his father. Hawkeye scooped him up and kissed his cheek.

"You having fun with Charles?"

BJ nodded. "Charles never read your book before."

Hawkeye looked at Charles. "You've never read _Last of the Mohicans_?"

"I have not."

"Well we finally found one way I'm more cultured than you."

"I would hardly go that far."

BJ giggled. "Charles funny Daddy."

Hawkeye laughed, "Well you won him over by some miracle."

Charles pretended not to care but inside he felt strangely honored that the small boy had accepted him.

Later that night while Margaret put BJ to sleep Hawkeye and Charles sat in the living room, Hawkeye on the couch and Charles across from him in the large armchair. Neither spoke much. Charles asked after the other members of the 4077. Hawkeye showed him pictures of BJ's two year old son Jeremy and baby daughter Samantha. Charles in return produced photos of his niece Susan.

Margaret walked back into the living room. "He's out," she said.

Hawkeye made room for her to sit next to him on the couch. Once she was seated he draped an arm around her shoulders and placed a quick kiss on the side of her head. The two of them then turned to Charles.

"Well," Charles said, "I suppose that is my cue."

"It's up to you Charles," Margaret said gently.

"Yeah we could always just play poker," Hawkeye added.

"No," Charles replied. "You have been patient enough. You have opened your…couch to me. You deserve some explanation." He paused and took a breath.

"I am not sure where to begin. I came home and took my place as chief of thoracic surgery all within the span of ten days. And for just over three years life went on very much as it had before the war. I was even engaged to a perfectly respectable girl. For the first time since being sent to that god forsaken hellhole, my life made sense."

"What happened?" Hawkeye asked.

"The woman I was engaged to, Anne is her name, put on a record. Mozart. And suddenly it was as if I had never left. As if the last three years had been a dream. I saw all those soldiers. All those dying men. I begged her to turn it off. She thought I was disappointed in the quality and talent of the musicians and laughed. The more I pleaded with her the more she laughed. I…I destroyed her record player, threw it against the wall. I tried to explain, but she just stared at me horrified. She told me the war was long over and that she had expected me to be stronger than that. And I realized in that moment that I had expected myself to be stronger as well. But I wasn't. Needless to say the engagement quickly dissolved. To be honest my feelings for her were never terribly profound and I understood that she would never understand."

As Charles spoke, Hawkeye held his arm tighter around Margaret's shoulder. Thankful beyond words that they both had lived through this experience and therefore understood.

"After that…incident," Charles continued, "I could no longer escape the war. It seemed like it was everywhere. Every person I operated on had the face of a soldier. And no one understood. My parents, my sister, the other doctors. No one. And my sister was the only one who even tried. I pulled away. I drank far more than acceptable for a man of my stature." He paused for a moment. "You must understand, I am not accustomed to admitting…weakness."

"This isn't weakness," Hawkeye said. His voice soft, with a tone of understanding.

"We were all there in different ways," Margaret added.

"The only reason I'm not there anymore is because of Margaret," said Hawkeye. "You'll find that too. And until you do, you've got us. And if you need a complete change of scene I'm sure Beej would let you come visit California."

Though he would never allow it to show, Charles was incredibly touched by their words. He considered ending his story there but decided he wanted them to know the rest. "That was, however, not the main reason I left Boston," he admitted.

"What was the reason?" Margaret asked.

Charles stood up and began to slowly pace the span of the living room. "I was…fortunate enough to meet someone who understood. A nurse at Boston General. She spent a year at the 8063. She found me sneaking a drink in my office one afternoon. She told me that she'd tried that method and it was no way to live. She proceeded to search my office and throw away any alcohol she could find. Then she sat in the chair across from my desk with her arms crossed and waited until I was ready to speak about what was happening to me. And it seemed that before I knew it a day did not go by where we were not together in some way."

"How long have you been together?" Margaret asked.

"Almost eight months."

"Wow Charles," Hawkeye said. "Someone's put up with you for that long? She sounds like a keeper."

Charles turned away and Margaret elbowed Hawkeye in the side.

"What?" he asked.

Margaret just rolled her eyes. "What happened?"

"We told no one of out affair. Both for my sake and for hers. At the time was unsure who would take the majority of the fallout if we were to be discovered. I now understand it was both. We were in my office…enjoying each other's company you could say. A fellow surgeon walked in. And it this were not bad enough, this particular surgeon's wife is a friend of my mother's. When my mother was informed, needless to say I was no longer welcome in our house."

"Oh Charles," Margaret said. "What did you do?"

"Couldn't you go stay with friends? Or with her for that matter?"

"What you must understand is I was no longer welcome with any of my friends. Nor at the hospital. And the same was true for Joanna."

"Is that her name?" Margaret asked.

"Joanna, yes."

Hawkeye leaned forward. "I don't understand," he said. "I mean I can buy that your family might get that upset if you were with someone 'beneath' you. But why did the hospital care? Because she's a nurse and you're a doctor?"

Charles sighed and reached into his back pocket. Pulling out his wallet he removed a small photograph and handed it to Hawkeye. "Perhaps this will explain."

On the back of the photograph was written "Joanna, 1957." Hawkeye turned it over and his eyes widened. The woman looked to be about Margaret's age, perhaps a little older. It was a candid shot, she was smiling at something or someone off to the side. She was very beautiful and her face lit up the whole picture.

As they looked at the picture, Hawkeye and Margaret understood why Charles had been ostracized by his family, friends, and even job. Joanna was Black.

"The hospital administrators," Charles continued, "told me that if I declared by relationship with Joanna was simply a way to relieve stress and that I had been using her for that purpose, they would keep me on. Provided, of course, I ended our affair. Joanna told me to do it. She had been fired immediately and she told me not to give up my career for her. I watched her pack her locker and walk out of the hospital amid catcalls and hurtful comments. And I couldn't do it. Not to her. Not when she had saved me. I told the administrators I loved her and they told me to leave.

"I packed my bags and went to find Joanna. But when I got to her apartment I overheard her mother speaking to her. She was hearing the same things I heard from my mother. The same ultimatums. I could not estrange her from her family. I left her a note, called your father, and the rest you know."

Hawkeye and Margaret were silent for several minutes after Charles had finished. "Charles I don't…I don't know what to say," Margaret said at last.

"I had hoped," Charles said, "that my memories of Pierce not subscribing to these forms of prejudice would still hold true. When I had to decide where to go this was the first place I thought of. I know it has been five years. And I know that we were not the most…cordial to each other during our time in Korea but I did not know where else to go."

Hawkeye just shook his head. "So much hate," he muttered. Then he looked up at his old tent mate. "You did the right thing Charles. You came to the right place. We'll figure something out."

XXXXXXXXX

_tbc_

_please review_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Six weeks later Charles was unpacking things in his new apartment. A man upstairs from Hawkeye and Margaret had moved out of the apartment building and now he was moving in. Hawkeye had convinced his boss to hire Charles as a chest cutter. A year ago Charles would have considered the job beneath him but with his accounts frozen by his parents he had little choice. And if he was honest with himself he did enjoy being in regular surgery again. He even, though he'd deny it to the end, found himself enjoying Hawkeye's company.

In little BJ Charles had found a partner in crime. He never would have imagined in a million years that one of the most important friendship's he'd have in his adult life would be with a four year old. After that first day Charles had watched him, BJ had clung to the older man with a kind of adoration second only to what he felt for his parents. Margaret was convinced it was due to Charles' voice. BJ loved nothing more than when Charles would read to him.

As for Charles he was constantly struck not only by the boy's inquisitiveness and developing wit, but also by his sharp intuition. BJ always seemed to know when Charles was feeling particularly low.

One night in particular after he'd been staying there for two weeks, Charles was struck by an immense feeling of loneliness. He missed his parents. He missed his sister and her family. He missed Boston. And he missed Joanna. The pain of losing her was still so sharp. He was sitting on the couch staring into space when BJ came into the room, carrying his blanket, and climbed up beside Charles. Without saying a word, BJ stood up on the couch and wrapped the blanket around Charles' shoulders. Then he hugged the older man as best he could in the odd position. Without realizing it at first Charles felt his arms come up around the boy. It was the first time they'd really hugged.

"What was that for?" Charles asked when they'd pulled apart.

"When I'm sad Mama wraps me in my blanket and gives me a hug. You looked sad."

Since then BJ never failed to pick up on the times Charles was feeling sad. And he was always ready with a blanket and a hug.

Charles was pulled out of his thoughts by Margaret walking into the room. "Is everything up here?" she asked.

"Nearly," he replied. "Is BJ still upset with me?"

Margaret smiled ruefully. "He's not really upset. He's just going to miss you reading to him at night."

"I told him I would try to read to him as often as I can."

"I know. He got like this after Ben's dad came for a visit. Two days letter Daniel called and BJ couldn't wait to talk to him. He's four. His moods won't last."

Charles gave a small smile. "Margaret," he began after a moment, "I cannot begin to tell you what this has meant to me. All of it. I don't like to think about what I would have done if the two of you…well three of you hadn't been here."

They were silent for a while as Charles continued to pack his folded clothes. "Do you remember," Margaret asked, "when that baby was left outside the Swamp?"

"Of course."

"I was thinking about her the other day. She'd be a few years older than BJ now. I wonder if she's still at the monastery. I wonder if she's even still alive. I remember that time because while BJ and Ben's reactions to the introduction of a baby into the camp were expected, yours was not. When I saw you with that little girl I knew there was a part of you that was different from the whole. You're gonna be fine Charles. I know it." She patted his knee. "I should go check on BJ. You're coming back for dinner right?"

"Yes I'll be there."

With that Margaret left. A few moments later Hawkeye walked in carrying the last box of kitchen stuff. For a while they unpacked in silence. Hawkeye unpacked the boxes of dishes they had purchased the day before. He rinsed each plate and glass before placing them into the cabinets. When he was finished he realized he hadn't seen Charles for a while. After finding the living room empty he stuck his head in the bedroom.

Charles was sitting on the bed staring at something in his hands. As Hawkeye got closer he realized Charles was holding his dog tags. Hawkeye sat down next to him.

"When I got home," Hawkeye said, "I hugged my father for about twenty minutes, ate three plates of eggs and bacon, and then slept for two days straight. When I woke up I felt like I could put it behind me. I started helping my father in the clinic, I walked on the shore, I saw my old friends, I fished. Everything was okay.

"Then one day I was rooting around in my dresser drawer and found my tags. In a moment it was like all of the time home didn't mean anything. I could smell the blood. I could hear the mortars. I realized I wasn't okay. Not really. And I shut down. I pulled away from everything for almost a month. Didn't leave the house, didn't speak to anyone except occasionally my father, didn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I could see the bodies. The faces.

"One night I couldn't get the sound of shelling out of my head. I took the tags and ran out to this rock that overlooks the ocean. I almost threw them in. I wanted to so bad. I thought that maybe if I got rid of them everything would be okay. I almost chucked them into the water. But I didn't. I couldn't. They are a part of me. I went inside and called BJ for the first time since we'd left. We talked for almost four hours. Two days later I got the letter from Margaret."

Hawkeye took his wallet and pulled out his dog tags which were tied together with a piece of twine.

"You keep them with you?" Charles asked.

"When BJ was born I didn't think I could handle it," Hawkeye admitted. "My…breakdown in Korea left me very uncomfortable around small children. That's when I started carrying them around. They remind me that if I survived the war I could survive anything."

They were silent for a while.

"They're a part of us," Hawkeye said at last. "And if we forget that, or we try to ignore it…we'll drown."

Charles fingered the tags for a while before standing up and placing them on his dresser. "I miss her Pierce," he said without turning around. "I miss the strangest things about her. I miss the way she smells. She always wore the same perfume though never very much. I miss the way she would brush fuzz of my shoulders even when I knew there wasn't any there. I miss the way she chewed on her thumb nail. Only the left one. I miss…" he trailed off.

Hawkeye stood and after a moment's hesitation he placed a hand on the other man's shoulder. "I'm not going to pretend to understand. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose Margaret now that I'm with her. But I don't get it Charles. If you love her, why not go back and get her?"

"Because I know the pain that estrangement from one's family causes. Joanna's family is very important to her. Her father was killed in World War II and her brother lost a leg in Korea. They are all she has and they are so close. On a whole different level than I was with my own family. I couldn't ask her to leave. She'd only resent me."

Hawkeye patted his shoulder. "I understand. You know, from what you've told me, I think that your sister might not be so quick to cut you off. You should write her. Let her know you're okay. I bet she's worried about you."

"Perhaps you're right. I had that same thought. I wrote her last week."

"Good. Now come on. Margaret's getting pizza to celebrate your new apartment. He walked into the living room and opened the front door.

"Pierce," Charles said, "it is not usually in my nature to…what I mean is I never thought you and I would become…that is to say I have very much valued your…friendship these past weeks. I may not say it enough but…"

"You're welcome," Hawkeye said smiling. "Same here."

_tbc_

_the next chapter is almost done and will be up soon._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Three weeks later Margaret was helping BJ tie his shoes for their trip to the park when there was a knock at the door. "Can you go put you jacket on?" she asked him. BJ nodded and Margaret went to open the door. When she saw who was on the other side her jaw dropped slightly.

"Margaret Pierce?" the woman asked.

At that moment Hawkeye walked in. "Who's at the door?" he called. He looked up from buttoning his coat and froze. "Joanna?" he asked.

The woman nodded.

"How did you…why are you…what are you…"

Margaret rolled her eyes at her husband. "What idiot boy means to say is won't you come in?"

Joanna thanked her and stepped into the apartment. Hawkeye took a moment to study the woman. She was tall, taller than her picture had made it seem. Nearly as tall as he was. Her hair was in a single braid that went halfway down her back. And she was even more beautiful than her picture had given her credit for.

After a moment Joanna spoke. "Honoria came to see me. Charles wrote her a few weeks ago. She told me this was the return address. I just…I need to see him. His letter said the two of you didn't care that I'm well..."

Hawkeye cut her off. "Of course we don't care. The way he goes on about you it wouldn't matter if you were a serial killer with three heads. The way he talks anyone would think you were perfect."

"He's going to be so happy to see you," Margaret said. She reached out and clasped the other woman's hand in hers. "I'm so glad you came."

Hawkeye felt a tug on his pants. Looking down he saw that BJ had come into the room at some point. "Daddy?" he said. "Is that the pretty picture lady?"

Hawkeye picked him up. "Yep, that would be her. Joanna this is our son BJ."

"Charles' letter spoke of you," Joanna told the boy.

BJ turned to his father. "Daddy we gotta go get Unca Charles."

"Right you are," Hawkeye said. "Charles is at the hospital today. We'll take you."

xxxxxxxxxx

Charles sat bent over is desk staring at untouched paperwork. The patient he'd been called in to treat was in recovery and that meant paperwork. In Korea, paperwork had often been an escape from the reality of the war. Here it was just a pain.

"Unca Charles!"

The cry was faint by Charles smiled as he recognized the familiar voice accompanied by the tell-tale sound of sneakers running down the hallway. Moments later BJ appeared at the door. "She's here Unca Charles!"

Charles looked at him inquisitively. "Who's here?"

"Pretty picture lady!"

Charles felt all his internal organs jump into his throat. He quickly got up from his chair and peered out into the hall.

He had always scoffed when reading books where the love interests spy each other from across the room and time seemed to stop. It had always been nonsense to him. But in that moment when he saw her standing with Hawkeye and Margaret it was as if there was no one else there. Nothing existed but the two of them. And for a moment he could not move, could not speak, could not breathe.

But then Joanna smiled. "Hey Stranger," she said.

"Hello," he replied, his mouth suddenly dry.

Neither spoke but Joanna walked towards him until they were only a foot or two apart. Then she raised a hand and smacked the back of his head.

"Take off without telling me? All I get is a note saying you're sorry? Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?"

"I apologize," Charles said. "I couldn't stay in Boston. And I didn't want you to have to choose. I couldn't make you choose."

Joanna put a hand to his face. "Oh Charlie," she said, "there never was a choice baby. Not for me."

Hawkeye looked confused, "Did she just call him Charlie?" he whispered to Margaret.

"Shut up dear," Margaret replied. She picked up BJ. "I think the three of us should go to the park." With that they left Charles and Joanna standing in the hallway. Charles realized they were standing in the middle of the hallway. He quickly ushered her into his office and closed the door behind them. They stared at each other for a moment, drinking each other in.

"How did you know where to find me?"

"Honoria came to see me. She showed me your letter."

"Honoria?"

"She's trying Charles. She misses you."

"And your family? What do they say?"

"They're afraid. They refuse to see anything beyond their own understanding of how the world works."

"I don't blame them," Charles replied. "After what happened in Boston. What the hospital put you through. How can you even stand to look at my face?"

"You're not the same as the people who fired me. They gave you the option to be that person and you didn't take it. I made my choice. My family, your family, they can make their own. You're who I want. Rest of the world be dammed."

Charles could feel so many emotions welling up within him. Not knowing what else to do he did the one thing he'd wanted to do since seeing her standing with Hawkeye and Margaret. Taking two steps forward he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder.

Joanna's arms came up to wrap around his neck. They held each other tight and Joanna swore she felt a slight wetness on her neck. She turned and kissed the side of his head.

Charles pulled back and captured her lips with his. When they broke apart several minutes later Joanna smiled and leaned her forehead against his. "How much longer do you have to be here?" she asked.

Charles glanced at his desk covered in unfinished paperwork and then back at the woman who had occupied most of his thoughts for almost a year. "Paper work can wait," he said. "They'll have to do without me for the rest of the day." He grabbed the phone and called his boss, informing the other man that he'd be out the rest of the day. Then he turned back and took Joanna's hand in his.

"Would you mind," he asked, "if we joined the Pierces at the park? I promised BJ I would if I finished in time."

"I'd like that," Joanna replied.

Charles smiled and kissed her hand as they left his office. Once outside the hospital they stopped and looked out over the city. "So you think you could like New York?" Charles asked.

Joanna took a breath. "Do you think New York will like me? Like us?"

Charles leaned down and kissed her cheek, not caring at that moment if anyone saw. "I will not lie to you," he said. "This place is not that far from Boston. But there are only two things I'm sure of in this world. One is medicine. Two is you. And to tell the truth medicine doesn't mean as much without you." Reaching up he gently stroked her cheek. "I love you Joanna. And if New York can't handle that, we'll find somewhere else."

Joanna grinned. They began to walk towards the parking lot when she stopped and grasped Charles' arm, turning him to face her. "Let's just get one thing straight," she said. "This runaway trip was your free pass. Do it again and I'll track you down and knock you into the next week."

Charles laughed and said the only thing a former Major could say in a situation like this. "Yes Ma'am."

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_more to come_

_thanks for all the kind words_


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